


Perks Of Fucking Vegetables: 1) Meeting Hot Doctors

by PastelBlueDahlia



Series: Food Porn™ [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Medical, Anal Fisting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Flirting, Bad Puns, But "professional" and "platonic", Comedy, Crack, Doctor Viktor, Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, Fluff, Food Kink, Food Porn, Humor, M/M, Viktor is a blushing mess with No Chill, Yuuri fucks himself with a zucchini while drunk, a tiny bit of angst, patient yuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2018-12-19 21:52:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11906928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelBlueDahlia/pseuds/PastelBlueDahlia
Summary: „Why are you fucking yourself with a cucumber?“ Phichit asks.„It‘s not what it looks like,“ Yuuri says, voice calm but still a little raspy from his pornographic moans, panting slightly as he props himself up on his forearms.„It‘s a zucchini.“- - - - -Why Katsuki Yuuri ended up in the hospital and how he snatched himself a hot Russian doctor, got drunk, and bought himself a lipstick from a stolen wallet. Not necessarily in that order.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BoredMoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredMoose/gifts).



> Okay, it happened like this: One time I wrote this tequila filth fic, and BoredMoose joked that this is literal food porn, and we kind of starting throwing ideas at each other until we started to write literal food porn drabbles, and they came up with this au and I actually just wrote this to calm down (I know crazy) and now I can upload it and of course I have to gift this to BoredMoose??
> 
> I love you so much but also hate you for making me write this. (Okay I lied I couldn't even hate you if you ate my last fry)
> 
> Please enjoy

 

  
  
Yuuri is _not_ drunk.  
  
It‘s just that he had a very stressful day, his feet  hurt and he is tired and thinks way too much and too fast, so he watches Desperate Housewives, holding a wine glass delicately in his hand as if someone would judge him if he drank straight out of the bottle, and his lips twitch into a delighted smile and a bone deep, almost filthy satisfaction settles in his chest as Bree kind of kills Orson.  
   
And okay, maybe he is drinking the whole bottle alone but it was already open? And he needs space in his fridge? And he can‘t invite people over to drink a half-empty bottle of wine because he would have to buy more alcohol, for what he doesn‘t have money, energy and Phichit‘s approval and Yuuri just knows it would end in an endless circle of having half-empty bottles of random alcohol clogging up his fridge. So he rather likes to drink alone, because he is a responsible adult and can handle his alcohol.  
  
When he is done with the episode he gets the unexplained urge to see Sarah Jessica Parker's face, marveling at the way her face looks pretty in one shot and ugly in the other, all in the matter of seconds.  
  
And maybe he also wants to giggle about the name Mr. Big.  
  
And yeah okay, he opens another bottle of wine, but that‘s only because he doesn‘t want to wash his wine glass when he only drank so little and he hates wasting water and cares about the environment, and he doesn‘t want people to think he is an alcoholic or even a fun person at parties with the amount of alcohol he consumes and is located in their apartment.  
  
Yuuri takes a sip of his wine and wonders if Sex and the City encourages drinking, his eyes flickering to their fridge while he bites his lip. There are still twenty minutes until the episode ends.  
  
From here on there are two possibilities:  
  
For one, he could eat literally anything in their fridge, sober up a bit and drown in guilt because when it comes to alcohol, he has no self-control. (For the record, he doesn‘t think this exact thought, but it‘s an almost mystic understanding, deeply rooted in his DNA and chromosomes that a Katsuki under the influence of alcohol is not a Good Idea)  
  
Or he could drink some leftover beer and wine until the episode is over and sleep calmly while drooling on his pillow.  
  
So Yuuri lifts himself off the couch and the alcohol shoots in his brain like a sledgehammer, his vision blurred at the edges. And he thinks _fuck_ , and _shit_ , and _how_ could he forget when it‘s like this _every_ goddamn time? He wobbles and tries to walk to the kitchen, hand reaching out for the wall, and his steps feel too soft, too light and barely there on the wooden floor.  
  
Then he flops down with his beer and wine and sighs heavily.  
  
From then on the show gets ridiculously funny, so funny even that Yuuri spills almost a whole beer can over his shirt, but he can‘t bring himself to care for even a second.  
  
And then it happens.  
  
Samantha sips delicately from her wine, just like Yuuri, wearing her beautiful and expensive lingerie even though she is alone, very different from Yuuri who‘s beer stain gets uncomfortable sticky on his chest. And she sighs and reaches for her vibrator. And then the batteries die.  
  
Yuuri feels a wave of emotions rushing through him, sympathy, grief and  neediness and he sobs loudly at his laptop, clutching his wine glass in his hand, and it kind of sounds like a moan but he is drunk and alone so he doesn‘t care.  
  
He remembers the last guy who fucked him, a brown haired frat boy, Martin with his many friends and big house and wide, bright smile, the way he almost looked like he wanted to make himself smaller when he laughed, his body kind of turned inwards and his lips curved into a wide smile whenever drunk Yuuri had said anything, fingers slipping under the hem of Yuuri‘s sweater. And he remembers how he had to use his vibrator in the bathroom afterwards, biting down on his hand to keep quiet as he _finally_ came, but claiming again and again just to reassure him with a red face that prostate orgasms work like that, no really, it‘s without ejaculating!  
  
He sits on the too soft couch, fidgeting, and his hazy, clouded mind can‘t concentrate on whatever Carrie does right now because he can‘t stop thinking about hands on his skin, hot and wanting and melting his body into something new, thinks about how something feels inside him.  
  
He ends the episode 10 seconds later.

 

 

  
  
The vibrator is blue.  
  
A pretty, sky like blue, very pretty, very blue, and Yuuri giggles at his train of thought. The world is a bit slowed down now, blurry at the edges when he moves too suddenly, and he opens himself up slowly, carefully, his legs spread wide and directed at the door, imagining how it would look like if someone would walk in on him. Not Phichit, god no, but _someone._  
  
Yuuri always liked showing off a bit, knowing what his hands were doing hidden from anyone, liked smirking at red faces that tried to stay calm and collected and trembling, bitten lips while Yuuri did wonders to them under tables, under blankets, in the dark. He likes the thrill that runs down his spine, just like now.  
  
Yuuri turns his face to the vibrator that lies beside his head, and he regrets not buying several ones, or a bigger one to built up to.  
  
As soon as he had ordered it online he feared that Phichit would be the one who would receive it and Phichit is way too nosy, and he definitely would have opened and teased Yuuri and just put it to random places to surprise him like the bathroom or his bed or the fucking kitchen table (he is talking from experience) just so can film his reactions for  „completely innocent and personal“ reasons and Yuuri would die (again).  
  
So he kept staring at his feet as the delivery came, and he noticed that he got a hole in his sock and his little toe was peeking out and he fidgeted more with each passing second, wondering if the guy noticed it too and thought Yuuri was this kind of dysfunctional adult who couldn‘t even iron his shirts or put on ties properly or if he didn‘t even care, and then he had to scribble his name on a clipboard with shaky, too hot fingers and couldn‘t even remember for a second if his name was written with one u or with two, and he felt so utterly judged by the seemingly friendly, but undeniable knowing smile on the guys face.  
  
Because of this Yuuri immediately hid the packet under his bed and squealed into his pillow, kicking his feet until he hit a lamp on his nightstand and wondered if maybe the delivery guy was right, maybe he was a dysfunctional adult.  
  
But he had overcome this awkward encounter and fingers himself now, tips his head back and moans loudly almost as if he wants to invite someone to come and fuck him. Yuuri always likes to imagine himself confident, without his glasses but magically good eyesight and pushed back hair, a nice, expensive dress shirt that chisels out his shoulder blades nicely if he had nice shoulder blades, and tight, black dress pants that show off his ass and tights. Not that he has such nice clothes, but he still likes to dream.  
  
So he imagines himself striding with long, sure steps to the door, and despite wearing these strange dress shoes he doesn‘t slip on the parquet, and the only reason he wears shoes at home in his fantasy is because he refuses to think about himself in his cozy but ugly socks, so worn out he had to save them several times when Phichit sorted out their things.  
  
(One time this issue resulted in the big and infamous Katsuki-Chulanont fight where Phichit refused to wash Yuuri‘s worn out clothes and even kept him from washing them himself because they were falling apart at the seams. So Yuuri began to run around half naked at home as revenge, taking off one piece of clothing each passing day, and just before Yuuri had to remove his underwear, which honestly didn‘t bother him that much from growing up in an onsen but bothered Phichit _very_ much since Yuuri was hot and his best friend, he reluctantly started washing his clothes again.)  
  
Imaginary Yuuri smirks and opens the door, running a hand casually through his hair and miraculously not getting any gel on his hand and ruining his hairdo.  
  
„Yes?“ he would say, casually, with a much deeper voice, kind of sexy and raspy.  
  
The delivery guy is taller than him, tanned, and his muscles seem to glow like he is in Baywatch and constantly covered in some kind of oil, wearing an extremely tight tank top and shorts, and his eyes are simply- um, beautiful, yeah let‘s go with that. And his hair is also- beautiful of course.  
  
Real Yuuri sighs and opens his eyes. He can _never_ think of faces. Of  course he could think of someone he already hooked up with or some celebrity, but this would be kind of rude and he would also be reminded of a probably bad/awkward/terrible one-night stand. There is a reason Yuuri has one-night stands and no fuck buddies.  
  
„Well, hello there,“ the hot-but-faceless guy says, his voice a single innuendo, „I have this… packet for Mr. Katsuki?“  
  
Imaginary Yuuri nods, „That‘s me, but...“ his voice immediately rises in pitch and he whines, brows drawn together in dread and guilt, „I don‘t have any money.“  
  
„I think there are other ways to pay...“ He purrs, his eyes, if he had some, roaming hungrily over Yuuri‘s body.  
  
His mind jumps straight to fucking, without even kissing which would be kind of hard without any lips. Yuuri grabs the vibrator and slowly pushes it inside, moans and turns the switch on.  
  
And Yuuri _loves, loves, loves_ his vibrator, such a good vibrator, he just wishes he had bought another one, a bigger one as he slowly pulls it out and pushes it back inside, angling it in a way it hits his prostate. And because he wants to relieve all the tension of the stressful day he savors every second, keeping himself dangling right on the edge of orgasm as he doesn‘t even touch his dick, and he knows it won‘t take long now, he is so close and then-  
  
The vibrator stops.  
  
Yuuri blinks, sweat cooling on his skin and heat a tight knot in his stomach, lifting his head from the pillow and looking between his tights.  
  
Slowly he pulls it out, and then hits against it with the palm of his hand a few times, just like he always did with their old TV in Hasetsu. The vibrator springs to live, apparently breathing out the last bit of life it had left because it doesn‘t do anything anymore, even though Yuuri spanks it with much more force since now his orgasm and dick depends on it.  
  
He sighs. Now he is hard, with a perfectly stretched asshole and without a functioning vibrator. It‘s the perfect set up for a porno, and he even considers ordering some pizza to test this weird coincidence out, hopefully letting it _end_   like in a porno: with his well-deserved and desperately needed orgasm.  
  
But no, he is a drunk adult and does‘t need to coax anyone into his home like a pervert, thank you. Instead, he handles it like a responsible person, grabs his cock and jerks off with nothing but his right hand.

 

 

  
  
He walks into the kitchen, naked because Phichit won‘t be home for at least two hours. And Yuuri needs food. But not normal food, he needs _Food_. Something that melts on his tongue, something he can hold with both hands and feel the warmth of it seeping into his fingertips, something that makes him moan helplessly, something that should make him embarrassed because he is such a dirty  slut but he can't help loving it.  
   
He needs a burger, or pizza, or god, _katsudon_ , just anything that is greasy and unhealthy and delicious.  
  
As he opens the fridge he doesn‘t find anything that even nearly fits into one of these categories. _Of course_. Yuuri fucking loves fast food and candy, so it‘s always Phichit‘s task to keep him from buying things like this and keep him in  check so they don‘t both end up fat and sad.  
  
And Phichit seems to think that the only thing that keeps their current lifestyle together is salad, and Yuuri‘s nose scrunches up in disgust and his face crinkles as he sobs loudly because this is so unfair, why can‘t he have even _one_ good thing?

He stares accusingly at the tomatoes and the mozzarella and these stupid cucumbers and zucchinis, and Phichit _knows_ that Yuuri hates zucchinis and still buys them and mashes them under his food like he is some fucking toddler and Yuuri is so angry because why did he have to watch Sex and the City, why did he have to get horny why did he even drink in the first place when it isn‘t even the weekend what is wrong with him oh god does he have a  problem and he looks at the zucchinis and thinks Phichit you can shove this-  
  
„ _Wait_ ,“ Yuuri says to the zucchini, eyes big with enlightenment, „I‘m going to shove you up my ass.“  
  
If the zucchini is terrified it‘s very good at hiding it.

 

 

  
  
Back in his room he coats the zucchini with lube, his fingers slick and shaky from excitement. It‘s thick and glossy, one end slightly thicker and plump, and Yuuri licks his lips hungrily as he lies on his back and pushes it in. The stretch is way more noticeable and it takes a long time until he can fit the whole thing inside. Then he starts thrusting it in and out, legs spread wide and moaning until his throat is hoarse, head tipped back and toes clenching, tights trembling.  
  
„Yuuri, can you-“  
  
His head snaps back up, and he stares with wide eyes at Phichit, and his eyes dart between Yuuri and the zucchini that is still buried deep inside his ass and Yuuri can‘t help but think his eyes look like marbles, huge and shiny and dark, like they will roll out of his head any second, but he actually thinks all of this later because now he flinches so hard that he hits his prostate directly with a violent thrust, and his come splashes onto his stomach.  
  
Yuuri stares at Phichit, exhausted.  
  
Phichit stares at Yuuri, frozen.  
  
„Why are you fucking yourself with a cucumber?“ Phichit asks.  
  
„It‘s not what it looks like,“ Yuuri says, voice calm but still a little raspy from his pornographic moans, and he pants slightly as he props himself up on his forearms.  
  
„It‘s a zucchini.“  
  
Phichit nods, like the perfect friend he is.  
  
Yuuri slowly takes the zucchini out, and Phichit furrows his brows confused.  
  
„Did you- take a bite?“ he asks. Yuuri looks at the zucchini he just pulled out of his ass.  
  
„Phichit,“ he says, calmly.  
  
„Drive me to the fucking hospital.“

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My aspiration in life is to tag a fic with humor or comedy without constantly worrying if it's funny enough
> 
> Thank you for reading ♥♥♥


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor is in love, Yuuri is horny, and Phichit eats a snickers

 

 

 

Yuuri is _not drunk._  
  
He is fucking _wasted._  
  
The thing about Yuuri is that he can drink and drink until it‘s too late, and it happens all the time. When he starts he doesn‘t feel anything, and then he drinks more and he slowly feels a pleasant buzz but then the burn in his throat gets less and less and why not drink some more? And then he starts stripping or giving someone a lap dance or sucking someones cock in the bathroom or in a car, and honestly it would be kind of nice to actually know whose cock he chokes on.  
  
He‘s lucky to have a friend like Phichit, who seems to have some kind of natural talent to know when Yuuri fucks things up. Phichit is great. And cute. And _that eyeliner._  
  
„I know Yuuri, but thank you,“ Phichit says and smiles brightly and the light surrounds his dark hair like a halo and he squeezes Yuuri‘s hand affectionately and only now the information trickles in his brain that oh, he said that out loud. But that‘s okay because it‘s true and Phichit is his bestestest friend and „Why are you filming?“ he asks, his tongue heavy and swaying in his mouth, gliding around like jelly. He bites on it to hold it still.  
  
„I need to show this to sober Yuuri, he's going to be so embarrassed.“ he grins and hovers over Yuuri‘s face with his phone.  
  
„Wa-it,“ he croaks out, his eyes brimming with tears so much Phichit is nothing but a blurry spot, „You know another Yuuri?“ he asks, his voice breaking.  
  
„Oh no, of course you‘re the only Yuuri I know! Don‘t worry.“ he says and Yuuri nods, grabbing Phichit‘s wrist and pulls it down to nuzzle his face against Phichit‘s soft palm, his eyes closed as he breathes out.  
  
Phichit squeals delighted, but inwardly he is very much dying. It shouldn‘t be legal to be so cute and fuck himself so lewdly on a zucchini, it really shouldn‘t.  
  
By now Phichit learned that when Yuuri reached this state of drunkenness, the first stage where he is cute and clingy and constantly whiny and crying, it usually doesn‘t take long for him to start stripping and go to suck someones dick. But Yuuri surely won‘t manage to seduce some doctor, here are after all just professional who know how to deal with drunk people and have to do important things like save lives.  
  
The door opens and oh wow okay, Yuuri‘s vision is blurry and his head hurts.  
  
„I‘ll be your doctor today, please call me Dr. Nikifo-“ and he looks up as he pulls a ballpoint pen out of his white coat pocket, probably to write something on his clipboard.  
  
And then it happens:  
  
The alcohol in Yuuri‘s blood ignites and the internal fire inside him evaporates all the water in his body and his throat gets dry and tight and the water searches for the easiest way to escape his body and flees out of his eyes in thick, loud droplets, leaving sticky salty trails on his heated, burning cheeks.  
  
Doctor Hot stares at him with very wide, very, very blue eyes and they continue to stare at each other while Phichit‘s head whips from him to the doctor like he is watching a very intense tennis game and nobody dares to say anything, and then Doctor Hot clicks his ballpoint pen loudly, and suddenly the spell is broken and Yuuri can breathe, his rips expanding as he says in one single breath:  
  
„Oh god, your eyes have the exact same color as my vibrator.“  
  
He sounds surprisingly sober as he digs his nails in Phichit‘s forearm.  
  
At the same time Doctor Hot breathes out with an extremely soft expression and an even softer voice „Call me Viktor.“, only a hint of a smile curling his lips. But Yuuri can already see it, sees how his face will crinkle and fold at some parts, can see that he is the type to laugh so much the corners of his eyes crinkle and he can see himself walking around with Doctor Hot on his side, sees himself kissing his sunwarm, sunscreen covered skin and kiss one particular pretty freckle, and Doctor Hot will pull him close to chase the taste and they will get sand in their mouths and laugh, and he can see how he fucks him and sucks his cock and hears him whimper and okay, maybe the whimper came from him.  
  
Doctor Hot clicks his pen again and Phichit‘s face contorts into something like disgust and confusion and interest. The doctor looks almost impressed, but Yuuri is drunk and actually everything is kind of swaying and too bright, so he is probably not reliable when it comes to perceiving his surroundings.  
  
„What?“ Phichit asks, and Yuuri simply shrugs, not able to look away when these blue eyes are still locked with his. He doesn‘t know how this developed into this strange staring contest but Yuuri will definitely not back down, even if he would love to check out his whole body.  
  
„So, um-“ Doctor Hot clears his throat and breaks eye contact, just to let his eyes flicker nervously back to Yuuri‘s face and then to Phichit like he isn‘t sure who he should talk to. Strangely it fills Yuuri with pride, because he won and also because his doctor can‘t seem to take his eyes off him.  
  
„What seems to be the problem?“ he asks and Phichit sighs loudly as he closes his eyes, ready to finally explain what happened but before he can say anything Yuuri blurts out:  
  
„I fucked myself with a zucchini.“  
  
His eyes are big and round and blue, and in the fluorescent lights it reminds Yuuri of a kaleidoscope. „Really?“ he asks, his voice full of wonder and awe as he leans forward the tiniest bit, seemingly interested in the situation.  
  
Yuuri almost proudly straightens his back and smiles softly, „Really.“  
  
Yuuri doesn‘t know that Viktor‘s heart stutters in that moment violently, hell, he doesn‘t even know his name at this point thanks to his brain being a sieve, but Yuuri‘s face does this amazing, heart wrenching thing where his whole face lights up slowly, igniting almost like a candle, and his eyes gleam with mischievousness and proudness and his smile is wide and his eyes crinkle at the edges in a way Viktor never saw before, and Yuuri‘s whole face radiates warmth and life and love and Viktor is gone in this exact moment.  
  
His next thought is _fuck_ , it‘s _Katsuki Yuuri_. He is _way_ out of my league.  
  
Viktor breathes out inwardly, trying to stop any thoughts that go in the direction of Yuuri‘s whole beauty.  
  
„So, um, I assume it got stuck?“  
  
Yuuri nods, closing his eyes earnestly in an utterly endearing way. _Viktor stop it he is a patient._  
  
„It was 20 centimeters long.“  
  
_Fuck._  
  
„Actually it was 23 centimeters. I must know, I bought it.“ Phichit says.  
  
Viktor holds his clipboard tighter, nails scratching over the cheap plastic. His throat is suddenly so very dry. He could use a good zucchini down his throat.  
  
„The whole thing?“ he rasps, eyes dark, „Got stuck?“  
  
Yuuri laughs, light and bubbly like champagne as he flicks his wrist as if he tries to get rid of a fly.  
  
„No no, not the whole thing! I just- ummm...“ Viktor notices how a tiny crease appears on Yuuri‘s face when he closes his eyes to think, his voice thick as he hums and the sound makes something hot and almost physical run down Viktor‘s spine.  
  
His face crinkles some more and then his nose scrunches up in a way that reminds Viktor of a cat and something presses down on Viktor‘s chest. He doesn‘t mind. If he gets to see Yuuri like this then he will gladly accept any kind of heart condition.  
  
„My ass bit something off.“ he tries to explain, his face somehow confused and obviously not finding the right words, gesturing with his hands helplessly.  
  
Phichit sighs and stops filming.  
  
„Okay, so he shoved a zucchini up his ass, I came in his room and surprised him, and that‘s how his ass bit a piece of the zucchini off and this piece is stuck now.“  
  
„Um, okay,“ he clears his throat, and _damn_ Yuuri really should have listened because Doctor Hot probably has a real name. Or maybe not. Maybe his parents took one look at their baby and knew how breathtakingly gorgeous he would become, and also knew exactly about his career. Maybe they pressured him into this job. The thought makes him smile sympathetically at his doctor which seems to make him lose his train of thought. Yuuri is almost disappointed as he clears his throat again and says „I will have to do a rectal exam to- see if it‘s possible to get it out. And if that doesn‘t work I‘ll have to take an x-ray to locate the- vegetable.“  
  
Phichit nods, almost serious, and Yuuri just can‘t stop giggling so he tries to hide it with his hand but instead of covering his mouth he kind of just smacks himself against his upper lip because he has no condition. His head lolls to the side and he smirks at his _amazing_ idea, spreading his legs wide.  
  
„Would you be so kind to take my clothes off, Doctor?“ he rasps. He shallows and stares in between Yuuri‘s tights, his eyes wide and so very, very blue. The smirk gets wider when he notices how the blue of his eyes clashes with the red on his cheeks.  
  
„Yuuri,“ Phichit says, voice strained as he stares at him with a blank expression, void of life, „They already changed your clothes. You‘re wearing a patient gown.“  
  
„Oh.“ Yuuri says dumbly as he notices how very naked he is underneath it and how very wide he spread his legs.

 

 

  
  
When Viktor finally bends Yuuri over he places a hot, large hand at the small of Yuuri‘s back, and he is terribly careful as he slowly presses down, guiding Yuuri to bent down lower. Yuuri‘s breath hitches when Viktor circles his entrance with lube, twitching from the coolness and blushing to the tip of his ears as he gently shushes him, rubbing a soothing circle into Yuuri‘s back. His heart beats in his throat as he stares at the white flooring in front of him, clenching and unclenching his hands as his cock twitches in delight, hoping for the same thing Yuuri does.  
  
As he pushes into Yuuri he can‘t help but groan softly, biting his bottom lip and tilting his head back, some part of him hoping that he would touch his hair, stroke him or tug on it.  
  
The tension is so heavy and his breath in Yuuri‘s ear so loud that he asks „Um, what did you say your name was?“ even though his throat is terribly dry and his mind fuzzy, knees weak with anticipation. Yuuri turns his head and his doctor is pale and vivid and bright, and his pink lips are parted and it‘s scary how he can look like that, scary how much Yuuri wants to put his finger in his pink mouth.  
  
„Viktor,“ he breathes in a hot puff of air, and the word slowly drips into Yuuri‘s fuzzy consciousness and drop down his throat like honey, syrupy and sweet and warm and then it inches forward on his tongue, flicking to the roof of his mouth as he tests his name out silently, and then he says „Viktor.“ And his own fondness is so warm and gentle on his face as he looks over his shoulder that he can't help but smile, and Viktor smiles right back at him, carefully and nervous at first and then full-blown, real and gorgeous and right and dizzying surreal and perfect, and then he gets this cute crease on his forehead Yuuri wants to trace and smooth out and kiss away and Viktor corrects himself hastily as he adds „I mean, Nikiforov. Viktor Nikiforov. Your- doctor.“  
  
Whatever moment they had is gone and Yuuri turns around and pouts, something like disappointment settling as the cute guy behind him that stretches him is only interested in his ass. Normally he wouldn‘t mind. Normally would be happy about such an outcome. But normally he doesn‘t end up in hospitals. And well, normally he doesn‘t fuck _zucchinis._  
  
The uncomfortable silence between them stretches into endlessness and Yuuri finds that he not only can‘t think of anything to talk about, but also doesn‘t want to. He will get this zucchini out of his ass and move on with his life. And forget this Hot Doctor.  
  
Viktor doesn‘t seem to think the same.  
  
„You‘re really… loose.“ Viktor says uncertain, his fingers gliding easily inside of Yuuri.  
  
„Thank you, I take stretching very seriously,“ he says, concentrating on a fuzz floating gracefully through the air, „And I had a zucchini in my ass. These fuckers are thick.“  
  
_Not as thick as you_ , Viktor thinks but thankfully bites his lip. He will take these words to his grave.  
  
Viktor‘s fingers twitch regardless at that and suddenly Yuuri moans, arching his back into Viktor‘s hand. Startled, he lets go of him.  
  
„I‘m sorry, I didn‘t mean to-“ he stammers. Yuuri laughs, and then he starts to giggle helplessly, his knees buckling as he presses his chest more firmly on the hospital cot.  
  
„It‘s fine.“ he assures, his forehead pressed to his forearms and his shoulders shaking from laughter.  
  
Viktor‘s heartbeat normalizes at that and he dares to breathe out slowly.  
  
Then Yuuri finishes him off.  
  
„It felt nice...“ he mutters quietly, trying to work through the buzz in his head to find the memory of Viktor‘s hands on him, pressing him down deliberately.  
  
„Ah- um. Okay.“ Viktor splutters nervously, and his fingers suddenly graze Yuuri‘s prostate again, making Yuuri moan high pitched as he pushes back against Viktor‘s fingers greedily, seeking for contact as he lifts his head from his forearms. Viktor freezes and burns at the same time, eyes wide with quiet wonder.  
  
„Oh god, I‘m so sorry!“ he exclaims and does it again.  
  
„It‘s all- fuck!“  
  
_He is a patient and needs medical help, try to be a professional for once!_ Yakov‘s voice resounds in Viktor's head as he pushes against Yuuri‘s prostate again and again, feeling him twitch and buckle in his hand, and he bites down on his lip hard and thinks _this is help, this is so much help, so so good help._  
  
Yuuri feels all his wishes come true, because it‘s good and it shouldn't feel this good, but it does and Yuuri really, really appreciates that Viktor actually knows where a prostate is and also knows how to make him lose his mind.  
  
„Yuuri, I really am terribly-“  
  
„Mhh, so _good!_  “ Yuuri moans.  
  
„No no, please stop saying-“  
  
„ _A_ _h fuck, right there Viktor!_ “  
  
„What the fuck.“ Phichit says as he opens the door, holding a snickers in his one hand and his phone in the other. His eyes flicker blankly over Yuuri‘s flushed face, his glasses foggy and askew, head thrown back and back arched as his knees buckle powerlessly under him, eyes glazed over by pleasure, panting heavily. And then there is Viktor, three fingers in Yuuri‘s ass and his formerly perfect fringe hanging in his red face and over one of his eyes, leaving one free and shocked and wide, face even more flushed than Yuuri‘s. He looks like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and- okay no.  
  
Phichit‘s phone flashes rapidly.  
  
_Blink. Blink. Blink._  
  
„Okay, I‘m going to eat my snickers and when I come back I don‘t want to see anybody‘s hand in anybody‘s ass. Or any _other_ body part. Or _v_ _egetables_.“ he says and takes a bite of his snickers, looking unimpressed. Phichit rises his eyebrows questioning and Viktor finally understands and hastily nods. Phichit grins at him and exclaims „Have fun!“ before he closes the door behind him.  
  
„I- I think,“ Viktor rasps, and then clears his throat once, twice as he pulls his fingers out and takes off the glove, „I think it‘s safe to say that I won‘t be able to reach it.“  
  
„Don‘t worry,“ Yuuri pants, cheek pressed to the cot and glasses askew, his whole body made out of jelly.  
  
„You reached the perfect spot often enough, believe me.“

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know what to think. Why do you like this. Why. It's zucchini porn. But okay. I guess that I'm writing this says a lot more about what a sick person I am
> 
> Thanks to your wonderful comments I'm going to change the tags! It won't be "Attempt at Humor" anymore but only "Humor" Thank you guys, I'm crying this is all I ever wanted you are too good to me


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor discovers his daddy kink, god laughs, and Yuuri would look incredible good covered in mayonnaise

 

 

 

Yuuri is _not_ disappointed.  
  
But well, he actually expected Viktor to take the x-ray and not this dude who keeps talking and talking about what a big fan he is, and he seems nice but he is not Viktor, which Yuuri will probably forever make his new standard for every guy he meets in the future. And this is _not_ good.  
  
Because the thing about substitutes is that the original has to be impossible to get, impossible to touch, out of his league, but Viktor doesn‘t really seem unapproachable and unreachable with the way he blushes so adorably, and how he sometimes averts his eyes just to look at Yuuri again a second later, almost as if he is magnetic and Viktor gets simply sucked in, and it really makes something pull in Yuuri's stomach like he can feel his magnetism too, and with the way he so naturally links their arms and walks slowly and carefully with him, their hips bumping against each other every now and then. Viktor's hand holds him up right at his waist, guiding him so he doesn't stumble, which seems to happen quite a lot of times because Viktor tightens his hold on Yuuri so much he feels the stretch in his skin and the heat through the thin night gown fabric.  
  
Of course Viktor has some ulterior motives, but Yuuri doesn‘t know that yet. Actually, maybe Viktor doesn‘t even notice it himself because his head is filled to the brim with Yuuri (and false pretense), and all he knows is that he smells fantastic, warm and musky and like alcohol but it strangely doesn‘t bother him, and his hair is so jet black and looks so soft that Viktor really, _really_ wants to run his fingers through it. Yuuri‘s waist is thin and strong at the same time, but the tighter Viktor holds him the more it yields beneath his fingers, and Viktor has to suppress a shudder as he thinks about how soft his skin must feel under these clothes.

 

 

  
  
The x-ray shows nothing he hasn‘t seen before, it‘s actually pretty harmless compared to the barbie doll heads he found in another patients ass this one time. It still haunts him to this day. And no emergency, no stopping heart monitor made his heart race more than taking a light bulb out of another guy‘s ass.  
  
It‘s still amazing how many of these patients claim that they ‚fell‘ on these things, miraculously getting them stuck in their totally unprepared and completely virginal asses.  
  
Another reason to admire Yuuri: he is completely honest.  
  
(Some all knowing god above them is cackling)  
  
The thing that is hard, well, except Viktor‘s dick under the thankfully long white coat, is telling Yuuri what the treatment is, especially because he is looking up at him with his huge, brown, innocent eyes and his lips are so kissable and pink, and even under these horrendous hospital lights that even make Viktor look ugly and lifeless, Yuuri manages to look bright and gorgeous, and Viktor still can‘t believe that he is his patient, and he can't believe that he put a fucking zucchini up his ass because why would he choose a vegetable over a real life dick? It must be incredible easy for Yuuri to seduce others. Especially lonely, blonde doctors.  
  
But at the same time he can't really blame Yuuri because Viktor also has some really weird kinks. He just has to think about his weird, kind of disgusting, completely filthy and definitely sexual relationship with mayonnaise.  
  
He has to suppress a shudder as he looks at Yuuri‘s pale skin under the fluorescent lights, imagining white strings of mayonnaise adding to his vivid paleness.  
  
„So, um...“ he says and clears his throat, gesturing at the x-ray, „This here is the- zucchini piece. A\- as you can see, it‘s pretty thick and deep, so-“ Viktor sighs, cheeks burning because he can feel Yuuri staring at his face instead at the x-ray, and his eyes are huge and intently and searching, and it makes Viktor wonder if he knows he is hard. His eyes flicker down briefly, but no, he is still safe. Well, as safe as possible because Yuuri‘s eyes darkened by the time Viktor looks up again.  
  
„Now we have two possibilities: I could send you home and when there is no- um, bowel movement in the next days or you feel any pain, you come back here,“ Viktor says in one go, taking a deep breath as he fixes his eyes on Yuuri‘s nose rather than his too big, too sparkling eyes, but even his nose is cute and Viktor really is no one to find a nose attractive okay, he is _not_ , but it‘s Yuuri Katsuki and _oh god_ he is staring, he has to say something, _anything-_  
  
„Or I could fist you.“   
  
Yuuri‘s eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and Viktor blushes and tries to explain himself, his hands gesturing vaguely between them, fluttering nervously.  
  
„Platonically!“ he exclaims and then stills for a second, „I mean, we don‘t know each other yet and we aren‘t friends and- _oh god wait._ “ he says, dread settling into his stomach and every little new crease that forms on his with horror drenched face.  
  
„I meant professionally. I‘ll fist you _professionally!_ “ Viktor‘s face crinkles like a piece of paper, a thought gone wrong, an idea thrown away, a life ruined.  
  
He should take Makkachin and leave this country.

But despite Viktor‘s word vomit he just starts giggling, his shoulders lax and bouncing up and down rhythmically. Viktor hides his red face in his hands and looks at the ceiling like he is praying.  
  
„Please stop me from talking...“ he begs, whiny and bratty and so unprofessional, but Yuuri only laughs, a cute, innocent sound.  
  
„Why? I like it when you talk.“ he says and smirks and then fucking winks at Viktor, which makes his heart hiccup for one long, terrible moment, and then his mind is screaming _fuck_ , because he is not subtle at all, not professional, he doesn‘t deserve this job when one patient can throw him off so much but then again it‘s Yuuri fucking Katsuki sitting there on the cot with his bony hands tucked under his tights and it‘s _too much_.  
  
Viktor would love to wrap him up in a blanket. And hug him. And nuzzle his face in the warm crook of his neck. And he wants to tangle his cold feet with Yuuri‘s under the blanket and make him squirm and squeal.  
  
Viktor makes a whimpering noise at the thought, almost a sob.  
  
„Fist me daddy.“ Yuuri Katsuki smiles, because apparently it‘s some kind of insider and then he realizes what he just said and laughs, giggling so much that he throws his head back and his shoulders shake and Viktor maybe, possibly did come a bit at that because Yuuri is this kind of person who awakens all kind of kinks he never knew he had.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I wanted to get the next chapter out as soon as possible, but I noticed how stressed I was from the deadline I set myself, and I'm really trying to change this because writing should make me relax and should be something I enjoy, and this really keeps me from having fun while writing. So this chapter is rather short, I know and I'm sorry, but I thought uploading at least some of the chapter would be better than uploading nothing at all
> 
> Thank you for reading ♥♥♥


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His favorite fruit is a mango, but does he want to tango??

 

 

 

Viktor is _not_ having sex.  
  
This is very professional, very platonic- um, help. _Treatment._  
  
(But god does he _wish_ he would have sex with Yuuri)  
  
„Viktor.“  
  
„Yes, Yuuri?“  
  
„Relax.“  
  
„I‘m trying. Really hard.“  
  
„That‘s not the only thing that's hard right now.“ _Wink wink._ Okay, now that was just blinking.  
  
Despite the lame pun Viktor‘s cheeks heat up, and he presses his lips tightly together to keep them from smiling.  
  
Yuuri lies on his back, his ankles in stirrups, legs spread wide. Viktor takes a deep breath and slips his gloves on, coating them in lube. He stills and takes a second to look at them, and _fuck_ , he is definitely trembling.  
  
Yuuri suddenly reaches his hand out and grabs Viktor‘s wrist, smiling sweetly as he assures „It will be fine.“ And Viktor feels his face soften as adoration tugs on the corners of his mouth because Yuuri is absolutely lovable, caring, sweet and more worried about Viktor's well being when he is about to put his hand farther up his asshole than it should be humanly possible.  
  
Yet here they are.  
  
Then Yuuri slowly breathes out, his dark lashes fluttering as Viktor pushes in, and he watched with wonder how easily his fingers disappear inside Yuuri. His eyes are screwed shut, a complicated expression on his face as pain and pleasure flicker over it rapidly, his legs shaking in the stirrups, making something hot and red surge through Viktor, and it‘s so unprofessional, so _wrong_ , but he can‘t help but sympathize, can't help but want to make this easier for him, so his hand lands on Yuuri‘s thigh, right on top of his knee and he draws reassuring, soothing circles into his feverish skin.  
  
Then there is a flutter of lashes, and Yuuri looks at Viktor, and Viktor looks right back at Yuuri, and both of them drink in air like they are just learning to breathe, and all Viktor can think about is how he managed to survive all these 27 years without knowing this, without knowing _Yuuri_ , and how absolutely crazy it is that he can feel so connected to a random, drunk patient he only ever saw on screens and admired from afar, and Viktor‘s spine prickles with heat in these cold lights.  
  
Yuuri huffs out a little laugh, breathless, „You look very good between my thighs.“  
  
Viktor‘s heart beats out of control wildly, and he starts to wonder if he really is sick because are these reactions normal? And his mouth is, like so often, faster than his brain as he blurts out „Is that an auditory hallucination?“  
  
Yuuri‘s eyes widen and Viktor blushes, probably all the way up his forehead and to the roots of his hair.  
  
„Hold on, let me try again,“ he says and tries to remember what the usual Viktor would say, the cool and suave and charming Viktor, but it isn't easy when Yuuri is so hot and pliant around his fingers, and somehow he doesn‘t even _want_ to play the usual Viktor, because now he feels different and shiny and new and why is he thinking about this Madonna song now _oh god_ Yuuri is waiting and this shitty song is not going out of his head and does it mean he is old when he thinks about this song? How old is Yuuri exactly? _Oh god._  
  
„I was told I look good in any position.“ he says smiling, ignoring his ear worm for now, and Yuuri tips his head back and laughs, bubbly and light like champagne, his collarbones throwing sharp shadows in the too bright fluorescent lights.  
  
„Maybe we should test that out.“ he replies, smirking and then he winks and Viktor suddenly knows that Yuuri Katsuki is no one he should ever let go, that he is someone to hold on to, much like he is doing right now because with the way his hand is so far up Yuuri‘s ass is doesn‘t seem like they will separate any time soon.  
  
Viktor knows that this is the place where he belongs, right between Yuuri‘s spread legs and stretched asshole, and this is everything he ever wanted and will want and at the thought a high whimper forms in the back of his throat. Somehow, it reminds him of Makkachin when he takes her favorite giraffe toy away.  
  
Yuuri‘s eyes are huge and he looks like he wants to pull Viktor close and make out with him right there, but he doesn‘t, and the tension is so much that Viktor desperately tries to concentrate back on his actual task, his gaze dropping between Yuuri‘s thighs.  
  
„Aww, don‘t be like that, tell me something!“ he exclaims cheerfully, and Viktor‘s brain takes him by surprise as it just takes every topic to talk about, every coherent sentence and train of thought, and just throws it out of the window. Viktor likes to surprise people and being speechless for once would probably make everyone who knows him think the world is ending or that the planets are in a strange, only every 1000 years achievable constellation because Viktor Nikiforov is _never_ quiet. He is one of these people who can actually talk with Mrs. Jenkins without nodding off, and he often gets bribed with free coffee to go and do her checkups.  
  
Well, it certainly would be a big surprise for anyone who knows him but Yuuri doesn‘t know him, and for him Viktor is nothing but a shy, blushing and totally creepy and unprofessional doctor, and once he sobers up he will forget all about him or drown his memories in even more alcohol and find himself a real dick instead of a larger than average zucchini.  
  
His throat goes dry, a bitter feeling spreading on his tongue.  
  
Viktor is not used to chasing after someone. But it‘s the first time that he feels like someone would be worth it.  
  
Yuuri hums quietly, caught in his own thoughts as he suddenly snaps his fingers, looking excited and bright-eyed.  „Are you calling all of your patients by their forename?“ he asks and Viktor‘s heart jumps all the way up his throat which he of course knows is not possible, but he is really close to making a breakthrough and all it would take to prove everyone wrong would be Viktor's reaction to literally _anything_ Yuuri does.  
  
All he thinks is _shit_ and _fuck_ and _tell him_ but instead he just quietly presses his lips together and shakes his head, but there are still words escaping him as he whispers faintly:  
  
„Only the very cute ones…“  
  
The silence that settles is deafening. Viktor‘s cheeks burn and god, he is an adult, he works hard and is usually seen as serious and calm and now this one patient turns his whole world upside down, especially with the way he can see Yuuri smiling out of the corner of his eye, and then his fist slips deeper, and on the little patch of skin Viktor touches bloom goosebumps as he shudders all over, yelping at the sudden movement.  
  
„Ah!“ Yuuri makes and bites down hard on his lip, hands twisting in his nightgown desperately, lashes fluttering and Viktor almost wants to pull his hand away, but he is a doctor and his hand was in countless asses before and it‘s totally not because he is selfish and horny as fuck and wants to see Yuuri losing his mind and composure and teasing smile.  
  
But soon Viktor finds himself in a pinch, not only because he can feel precum dripping down his dick, but also because Yuuri is clenching down so hard that he can barely move forward. He really tries not to think about Yuuri clenching like this around his dick, milking him dry with force, but then he is reminded of the wide girth of zucchinis.  
  
Viktor shudders.  
  
Yuuri clenches impossibly harder.  
  
„Yuuri, you need to relax.“ he tells him in a hoarse voice.  
  
„Tell me puns.“ he gasps, voice strained and eyes urgent, wild. And he desperately searches and searches in his mind for anything, _anything_ that is a pun and then his lips  move and he blurts out:  
  
„Like a virgin,“  
  
Yuuri stops panting, his chest lifted with a deep breath.  
  
"Touched for the very first time."  
  
And Viktor is so tired, he can‘t even remember the last time he went to bed, but he can pinpoint the second he last drank coffee and there is something about the light and about Yuuri that makes him feel drunk and then he says:  
  
„I‘m hard.“  
  
And _god_ does Yuuri look good like this, glistening with sweat and lips bitten red and maybe he is in this weird state of mind where he thinks he is drunk because someone else is  drunk but he can‘t think about anything but Yuuri.  
  
His eyes drop to Viktor‘s crotch.  
  
„I can tell.“  
  
Viktor bites his lip and the whole terrifying reality is crushing down on him because who says something like this, who fingers and then fists his patient for solely personal reasons, who even listens to Madonna oh god, he is supposed to sweep others off their feet, why doesn‘t it work with Yuuri?  
  
„You seem to be rushing this relationship.“ he deadpans and Viktor stares at him, and then Yuuri‘s face lights up, and he is still sweaty and panting and his glasses are fogged up at the edges and Viktor is helplessly, utterly in love.  
  
„Wait, you are Russian right?“ he asks, a deep crease on his forehead, „This would be pretty embarrassing if not.“ And Yuuri laughs nervously, in a way Viktor hasn‘t heard before.  
  
Viktor can‘t help but laugh, his shoulders bouncing up and down helplessly and it‘s so loud and freeing that it surprises himself, and then Yuuri is laughing to, and tears are beading in the corners of his eyes because how can Yuuri be so _perfect_ , how can he make him feel like this, and then Viktor‘s fist slides deeper and his fingers touch something, and he hears Yuuri‘s breath hitch as he slowly pulls out a rather large chunk of the zucchini.  
  
Viktor will have to marry him. He‘s gone through more stuff with Yuuri than most other people he knows, he even dares to say with Chris. (And they really did some questionable things.)

 

 

  
„And with that, you‘re done.“ he says to Yuuri, smiling sheepishly as he rubs the back of his neck.  
  
„Thank you.“ And Viktor‘s throat is tight as something nervously flutters in his gut, nauseating because this is his last change, and he fidgets with his hands, intertwining them again and again.  
  
„Um, if it‘s not too much to ask,“ he says, voice getting fainter and fainter with each word, „Could I have your autograph?“  
  
Yuuri‘s eyes are huge again, surprised, and Viktor desperately tries to clarify.  
  
„I‘m a huge fan of your dancing, you see! And I adored you for years now and- wait, this sounds creepy, I‘m not creepy, I‘m actually rather charming!“ he looks up from the floor and into Yuuri‘s frozen face and blushes, so very different from the cool, suave player Viktor liked to imagine him to be when he would come across Yuuri Katsuki, one of the most decorated dancers of all time and the most graceful and lewd person he knows, his Eros unbeatable and infamous, and Viktor's wanking material for 3 years now and the only other thing aside from coffee that effectively helps him survive his night shifts and keeps him from choking on a granola bar when he is too sleepy to know how eating works, because he only has to think about how Yuuri danced right beside Beyoncé for his blood to start boiling. His name is Viktor, he is 27 years old, and he still hasn‘t recovered from Yuuri's pole dance skills and the way the glitter clung to his skin so perfectly. He is doing better now, but _oh_ does he relapse into sin.  
  
„Wait, I‘m not conceived I swear! Oh god...“ he groans, tilting his head up to the ceiling and praying for Yuuri to forget all of this when he sobers up.  
  
Yuuri only laughs.  
  
„It‘s okay, really,“ he assures and his pointed fingertips are touching Viktor‘s waist, no warmth seeping through but it still makes his heart jump furiously.  
  
„But no,“ he says sweetly, his face so close and his eyes glinting dark with tease and promise, „I don‘t do autographs.“ And Yuuri leans forward and presses his lips to Viktor‘s cheek, soft and warm and breathtaking, pressing his whole warm, solid body against Viktor, and everything in Viktor screams that he should hold onto Yuuri, that he should wrap his arms around him, but before he can even say anything Yuuri turns around to his waiting friend and leaves, his hips unmistakably swaying to the beat of Madonna's „Like a Virgin“, taking Viktor‘s dignity, pride, wallet and most importantly, his heart with him.

 

 

 

In the taxi Yuuri turns around to Phichit in the backseat, smirking and his eyes are sparkling as he shows him Viktor‘s wallet.  
  
Phichit sighs, "I know this look."

 

 

 

„I‘m really okay!“ Viktor exclaims, rolling his eyes as he bites vigorously into his granola bar.  
  
„Hmm...“ Chris hums, bracing his chin on his fist.  
  
„I mean, he kind of just threw me away but I‘m not even mad about it, I should be lucky that I was even in the same room as him, let alone touched him! I‘m completely over it.“ he says and downs his coffee. "And I mean, just look at him. He could have everyone." Viktor adds a little faintly, a weak smile on his face which he immediately gets rid off because he knows just how pathetic it looks.  
  
„Okay, every sentence with ‚I should feel‘ is wrong and stupid, okay. And god, are you even listening to yourself? Don‘t pretend that you are not hurt and jerk off while picturing Katsuki‘s ass wrapped around your fist.“  
  
Viktor looks irritated at his granola bar and takes another bite, brows furrowed.  
  
„I should know. I mean, it‘s not hard to think about his ass- actually, _it is_ kind of hard- “  
  
„God Chris! I would never do something like this, I respect him! _Deeply!_ “ he splutters, cheeks full of granola as he shallows thickly. "And don't you dare say anything about 'deeply', I will never show you pictures of Makkachin again." Chris closes his mouth slowly and pouts.  
  
„We both know that if there would ever leak a sex tape of him you would probably die of dehydration.“  
  
„I wouldn‘t...“ Viktor says faintly, because he is really not sure about that.  
  
Chris laughs breathy. „Oh yeah? Then what‘s with that time I caught you jerking off to Katsuki‘s ‚Dirrty‘ video?“  
  
Viktor slurps a capri sun guiltily as he focuses on a dirty spot on the floor. Actually he wanted to save it for another break, but the mentioning of the Dirrty video brings back memories that make him, well. Thirsty.  
  
„And I know we never talked about this,“ Chris says, voice so unusual serious that Viktor looks back at him, „But maybe you should buy real lube instead of using mayonnaise."  
  
„That was one time!“ Viktor exclaims, squeezing his capri sun so hard that the juice drips over his hand.  
  
The Mayonnaise Incident, in short TMI, or even shorter, MI, will always be the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to him. Nobody can know about this kink of his. _No one._  
  
Viktor knows it would ruin his career.  
  
„Yeah, I highly doubt it,“ Chris says, smirking again, „ I mean, you looked like you didn‘t even know which you should be more turned on by. Have I ever told you that I never eat my fries with mayonnaise anymore? What has my life become, just-“  
  
„Chris!“ Viktor stage whispers, grabbing his face and turning it to the entrance. „It‘s his friend! _Yuuri‘s_ friend! “  
  
Phichit‘s eyes skim over the room before they land on Viktor, smiling brightly as he walks towards them. His heart is going to _stop._  
  
„Viktor!“ he exclaims happily, „I came to give you something from Yuuri.“ he says and pulls out a little envelope, handing it over, giddy with excitement. Viktor wipes his sticky, wet hands on his coat, swallowing nervously as he looks at Chris, at Phichit and then at the flawless white envelope.  
  
Viktor‘s hand shake as he opens it, slowly showing a picture that makes the tips of his ears incredible red.  
  
Chris whistles impressed. „It kind of has your eyes.“ he says, all three of them staring at the picture of a light blue vibrator, one hand wrapped around it.  
  
„It was really important to him that you know what he was talking about when he said your eyes have the same color,“ Phichit says, „Turn it around!“  
  
The backside is full of red kiss marks, a address in smudged handwriting and a few lines. Viktor takes a deep breath before reading it.  
  
„Wait!“ Phichit exclaims and pulls a lipstick from his pants pocket, letting it drop into Viktor‘s hand. „Now.“ he smiles cheerfully.  
  
Then he reads with a breathy, failing voice „'I took your wallet, and if you want it back you better be _Putin_ this on and be _Russian_ over here. “ Yuuri took the time to underline the words.  
  
„The best part is the lipstick,“ Phichit says and Viktor turns it around in his hand, looking at the color.  
  
„Russian red.“ he reads.  
  
The smile on his face spreads slowly, and he feels Chris' and Phichit's eyes on him as he bites his lower lip to stop smiling, but he fails and starts to laugh happily, his expression soft and boyish as he hides his smile with the photo of Yuuri's vibrator.  
  
„Viktor,“ Chris says, putting a hand to Viktor‘s trembling shoulders, „You better marry that zucchini boy.“  
  
Viktor laughs, smudging the red lipstick from one kiss mark with his thumb, face full of adoration.  
  
„I‘m on it.“

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks!
> 
> Okay, I have to admit that this is really the planned ending but... I'm not really satisfied with it because it's so open? And because I really, really enjoyed writing this I'm thinking about making this into a longer fic and I already have some ideas but I'm afraid that it's not going to be that funny anymore, and I also haven't planned out any further plot until now. So for now, this fic is finished but I might come back to it 
> 
> And I just wanted to say that you are amazing people and I still can't get over all these comments I got and how much you seemed to enjoy it and even told me I was funny which I didn't even knew I could be? I just really want to thank you guys so, so, so much, I was laughing and squealing and grinning so much while reading your comments ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously On Gossip Girl:
> 
> Yuuri, a successful dancer successfully got drunk and shoved a zucchini up his ass which naturally resulted in a visit to the hospital where he met Viktor, a Hot Doctor who takes his job Very Seriously but then, well, a gorgeous drunk Katsuki Yuuri had walked into the hospital and seduced him, which was especially easy because Viktor is a huge fan of Yuuri because he's a successful dancer. After a lot of flirting Viktor finally gathered up enough courage to ask for an autograph. He got his wallet stolen instead. Heartbroken he tried to live on, and was miserable for a whole day until he got a lipstick and a card from Yuuri, saying he would like to meet him. BUT NOW HE'S SOBER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so a couple of weeks ago I was hit with Inspiration and I have Actual Plot now for this fic, and I thought hey, could there be a better date to post than the birthday of the gorgeous, amazing, talented BoredMoose to which this fic is already dedicated to? So here I am, and I hope you can enjoy this mess ❤❤❤

 

 

 

Yuuri is _not fucking_ okay.  
  
It feels like there are stones weighting him down, rumbling through his brain painfully as he turns his head. It reminds him of that one fairy tale with the wolf but can‘t remember which one because they all have a big bad wolf as nemesis and isn‘t that a little judgmental and discriminating?  
  
„Who am I?“ he rasps at the white ceiling, half expecting not to get an actual answer.  
  
But then there's a chuckle and Yuuri grits his teeth and turns his head and sees Phichit‘s crooked, devilish grin ghostingly blue illuminated by his phone. He promptly closes his eyes, the stinging behind his eyeballs so painful that it makes him groan softly.  
  
„You‘re an idiot,“ he answers helpfully, and while Yuuri is slipping off into a deep, dreamless sleep he can‘t shake off the feeling that he‘s right and that he did something really, _really_ idiotic.

 

 

 

The next time Yuuri wakes up, it‘s because of a rhythmic thudding against the wall. He blearily opens his eyes and the sun cuts deep and mean into his brain, making him hiss as he throws the crook of his arm over his eyes. Naturally, he tries to fall asleep again but the thudding won‘t stop, and at first he thinks it‘s a neighbor who‘s way to enthusiastically slamming nails into a wall because loud, annoying things always seem to happen when he‘s hungover, these damn coincidences or…  
  
Phichit is fucking someone.  
  
Which would explain the howling that sounds like a wounded dog and makes Yuuri‘s heart clench involuntary because _ugh_ , he shouldn‘t feel sympathy for whoever is getting their ass pounded behind that wall.  
  
_What the hell_ , he thinks as he hears the breathless _ah ah ahs_ of his roommate which ends with a high-pitched „ _Oh goooood_!“

Yuuri looks over the edge of his bed to find his pants, but as he does so the world tips over and he _leans leans leans_ to the side in an attempt to not hit his head on the sharp edge of his nightstand and die a horrible, embarrassing death but instead bumps his shoulder against it hard, hears the rattling of all the things on it and then thinks nothing anymore as he realizes with terror how his abdomen ripples and-  
  
_„BLEEEEERGGGHHHH!“_  
  
Maybe he deserves all this. Maybe it‘s gods punishment for saying „Uhh yes sure?“ as he was asked if that was the pizza he ordered and promptly eating it even though it wasn‘t, and he didn‘t pay for it and it really was a good pizza, so good that he had tears in his eyes after the first few bites.  
  
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sighs as he slowly sits up, a hand pressed to his stomach. Yuuri takes a deep shuddering breath before he slowly gets up, world spinning like yarn as he walks to the kitchen to search for his glasses.  
  
If there‘s one thing he learned over the years is that his drunk self loves kitchens with an intensity that would be strange if he wouldn‘t be drunk off his ass. (Yuuri recalls one time where he murmured „I live here now,“, trying to fit the whole of his 173 centimeter self into a sink and proceeded to meow like a cat. Unfortunately, there are pictures of that night. And memes.)  
  
The first few steps are more than uncomfortable. Not only because of his abused asshole, but because there's something hard stuck in the cleft of his ass. Just when he reaches the kitchen he slowly pulls it out, shivering as it drags against his hole, and suddenly holds his vibrator in his hands.  
  
„What the _fuck_ ,“ he mutters and stares and then realization hits him like a kick in the gut because he saw this exact shade of blue before. And it wasn‘t disappearing in his ass. No, he saw it yesterday framed by pale lashes in a handsome face that makes Yuuri gasp a little when the memory slowly seeps back, blurry, a blush so artistically dusted over creamy cheeks it felt barely real, and pink plump lips stretched into a blinding smile, sometimes so small, so trembling like he was holding back a ton of emotions and words that only were supposed to be whispered, eyebrows flickering and quivering like the tender wings of a hummingbird, and-  
  
Yuuri‘s heart is squeezing. Fucking squeezing because of a doctor who, if his memory is correct, had his _entire fist up his ass._  
  
He groans at the memory and blushes hard, clutching the vibrator and he tries to take a deep breath but there is no air in his lungs and _it‘s not helping_ , not helping at all _oh god-_  
  
„Phichit!“ he cries, voice wet with restrained tears as he storms into his best friends room only to find him getting pounded hard in the ass from no other than Christophe, the guy who helped Phichit bring him into the taxi (and who got through nothing but an accidental touch on the hand that was not at all accidental, a smile and a wink Phichit‘s number)  
  
His face is smushed into the pillow, mouth hanging open while he moans, and then his glassy eyes scrunch and glint with recognition while Christophe locks his eyes with Yuuri‘s who is staring at Phichit who‘s staring at Yuuri staring at Christophe and then he winks and proceeds to fuck Phichit.  
  
„H – ey – ey,“ Phichit moans, air getting cut of with ever single one of Chris sharp thrusts. It reminds Yuuri of a bouncy ball. „H – ey champ, bu – ddy, p – pal, coul – d you – _ah_ – lat- er-“  
  
It‘s not the first time Yuuri walked in on Phichit having sex, and it will definitely not be the last, but there‘s something unsettling that runs down his spine because of the waft of heavy, humid sex air in the room that‘s a surprisingly good indicator that they‘ve been going on like rabbits for _hours_ now and he wonders how they didn‘t suffocate yet.  
  
He slams the door shut, the sound reverberating in the apartment.  
  
And then he walks a big circle in their even bigger living room because Phichit said that if they have money then they should at least live like it but apparently being constantly poor and hungry can become a habit, just like everything that lasts for 21 days Yuuri remembers he heard somewhere, and now they don‘t know what to do with their money and Yuuri brought his childhood bed with the old stickers on the bed frame with him, partly because of the memories but also because spending even a little more on a futon or a mattress was just not possible back then and now he‘s walking circles in his living room and clutches the vibrator in his sweaty hands and tries desperately not to think of yesterday and the literal angel fisting him and he‘s running in circles except the circles don‘t really look like circles and become more and more deformed eggs and Yuuri feels almost sorry for these poor deformed eggs because the deformed eggs make him think of deformed balls which only makes him think about the doctor more.  
  
Should he go to meet him? He made a promise, made such a fucking effort to signalize that he‘s interested, made a fool of himself. What if rumors will spread? What if the next time Yuuri sees him he‘ll be giving that perfect smile to a news reporter, sitting in some well lit studio and giving an interview about how thirsty and creepy Yuuri is, and the interviewer will look just as gorgeous as Viktor and they will throw their heads back like they heard the funniest joke of the millennial like white middle-aged women at business parties.  
  
And Yuuri‘s heart will break.

Because he was stupid and drunk enough to do all that and let someone in, let a _fan_ of all things in on something personal. Let him hold his hands when he was in pain and give him a loose thread of himself, of the mess Yuuri actually is into his gentle, pale hands, and all Viktor has to do is tug hard and Yuuri will unravel in front of him, heart and lungs and bones laid bare just like his secrets, and it will be so damn easy to trample all over him.  
  
He doesn‘t realize he has tears in his eyes until Phichit‘s soft, warm hand suddenly makes him flinch out of his spiraling thoughts, and when he softly smiles like everything‘s okay and Yuuri didn‘t do something incredible stupid, wearing that stupid egg yolk yellow bathrobe and his hand buried deep into the microfiber fabric of his pocket then it feels like everything‘s still normal in a way and that he maybe didn‘t totally fuck up and everything can be okay and normal again.  
  
Yuuri lets himself be guided carefully against Phichit‘s shoulder, and he clings onto the soft fabric at his back and nuzzles his nose deep into the crook of his neck. Phichit smells like sweat and sex and wine, but that‘s okay for now.  
  
„I fucked up...“ he murmurs against Phichit‘s shoulder and smears his snot and tears all over him. Phichit pats his back rhythmically, like he‘s shushing a baby to sleep.  
  
„We‘ll fix this together,“ he says, and Yuuri allows himself to believe him for a second.

 

 

  
  
There are a few very striking differences between Phichit and Chris, and to be honest, Yuuri would never have thought that they would end up in any relation to each other. It fits, and then again it doesn‘t fit, like a patchwork blanket. The most obvious difference though is that Phichit looks adorable and petite and innocent in his fluffy bathrobe, while Chris looks in the same bathrobe in a hot bright pink like a porn star on filming break.  
  
Then there‘s the fact that Chris obviously doesn‘t care what part of him Yuuri can see, and establishes this quickly as he flops on the couch, letting everything dangle on their $3000 couch. He‘s sure hat Chris smirked as he winced.  
  
Yuuri is sitting on their way too sleek, stylish bar stool that‘s admittedly way too sleek and stylish to be comfortable. The tiny useless backrest pokes hard into his lower back when he slouches, which he does a lot, especially when he‘s frustrated, tired or his head is a mess like now and he grips his hair again and again and again, running his fingers through it like that would help him gather his scattered thoughts, would help him to be more put together.  
  
There‘s a soft clank in front of him, and when he looks up there‘s his favorite cup with the tiny poodles on it, a sweet smell rising up. „Drink up,“ Phichit says with a soft smile and _that voice._  
  
That voice that sounds like someone put milk, honey and a whole chunk of butter into a pot and melted it, which sounds fucking disgusting but fits. The thing about that voice is that Phichit changes with it. He developed two ways to comfort Yuuri: dragging him out of the security of his own home once in a while, makes him meet people and maybe even plays wingman, otherwise going to one of their rooms and watching shows and films until their ice cream runs out and they play rock paper scissors to determine who has to go and fetch a new one. Then there's this: the method where Phichit listens and erases his own worries and hugs Yuuri so tightly like he‘s trying to bring all the broken pieces of him together, using the love he holds for Yuuri as super glue.  
  
Phichit wasn‘t always good at comforting him the second way. And Yuuri still wonders how he got so good at it, how he takes the weight off Yuuri's shoulders like it‘s nothing. Sometimes, it‘s almost concerning.

Yuuri takes the cup in both of his hands and looks into his tea, sees Phichit leaning closer to Chris as he comes to stand next to him, and the feeling that goes through him upon seeing that is too strange to name so he pushes it down.  
  
„Let‘s talk about Viktor?“ Chris says and smiles broadly, all white teeth around plush lips.  
  
„Ah, I – I don‘t know what to talk about...“ Yuuri says and sips with shifty eyes from his too hot and too sweet tea, because that‘s a thing Phichit does too: pumping him full of sugar like it will fix all the problems in the world.  
  
This time he doesn‘t need to look into his tea like some obscure fortuneteller to know that Phichit and Chris exchange a knowing and worried look.  
  
„Um, Yuuri,“ Phichit begins, voice awfully strained,“How much do you actually remember from yesterday?“  
  
„You don‘t have to be embarrassed, we all know what went down there,“ Chris says, grinning, and it makes Yuuri wonder if here‘s an innuendo hidden somewhere in that sentence or if everything he says sounds like something that leads to very enthusiastic sex, but Phichit‘s eyes are scrunched and he seems to ask himself the same thing. In the end, he settles on hitting him lightly on his shoulder.  
  
Yuuri takes a deep breath.  
  
He just wants to get this over with.  
  
„I remember getting drunk for no particular reason at all, really _no goddamn_ reason except that I‘m not a functioning adult and a fucking idiot, but my drunk me is an even bigger idiot because I stuck a zucchini up my ass,“ he lets out a short breath and furrows his brows, „Which is by the way all your fault Phichit because you keep buying these disgusting, expensive watery fuckers, and – and the tip got stuck in my ass and we went to the hospital and – and there was Viktor, and-“ Yuuri digs his teeth into his dry lips, forehead crinkled like the blurry memory of him is too much to handle. Which it is, actually.  
  
„Okay, so I met Viktor. And he was – nice. And cute and hot and-“ Yuuri‘s eyes flutter shut in defeat, shoulders slumping, because this is the most terrible thing about all of this, „And I had _fun_ ,“ he adds slowly.  
  
„More fun that someone with a zucchini in their ass should have definitely,“ Chris says lighthearted as the silence drags on for too long. Phichit smacks his shoulder, so offhandedly like he tries to shoo away an annoying fly.  
  
Silence stretches between them like rubbery gum. But then again, it‘s not actually silence. The things Yuuri can‘t say out loud are scattered between the lines, so easily detectable like a bright neon sign in front of a McDonalds. For people who know him, it‘s easier to decipher the conversations he has in his mind. It‘s easy to figure out when you know where to look. When Yuuri locks eyes with Phichit again, he knows he did.  
  
Meanwhile, Chris looks from Yuuri to Phichit like he‘s watching a very aggressive tennis play.  
  
„Oh,“ Phichit says, understanding.  
  
„What?“ Chris asks, „He had fun, that‘s good right?“  
  
„ _Uhh_ ,“ Phichit makes, face unsure.  
  
Chris sighs. „Look, Yuuri,“ he says, sounding a lot more tired than before, „I don‘t want to tell you what to do, but – I know how much Viktor likes you. He was already annoying before he met you, but now it‘s not even funny anymore. And that was barely a day ago, so that must mean something.“  
  
Yuuri winces and alarmingly looks at something that isn‘t Chris face. The backrest of the bar stool digs painfully into the small of his back.  
  
„Okay, I get that you haven‘t had the best start with the whole patient and doctor thing, and there‘s also the issue of him idolizing you beyond recognition, but – I get the feeling that this could work out if you tried and this could be great and – and make both of you happy because you have all that crazy chemistry and – yeah,“ Chris distressingly runs a hand through his hair and then huffs out a laugh like he can‘t believe himself for rambling so much.  
  
„Well said,“ Phichit compliments with a smile he tries to keep small, which results in his lips twitching. It‘s so new and different from the Phichit Yuuri normally sees that he feels a dull ache in his chest and a dangerous thought forms in the back of his head he tries to immediately strangle.  
  
Chris smiles and exchanges a high five with Phichit.  
  
„Thanks,“ he laughs, „This is by far the most romantic thing I‘ve ever said, and it‘s not even getting me some dick.“  
  
„You‘re a true hero. So selfless,“ Phichit says, and laughs that tinkling, syrupy laugh.  
  
Yuuri watches all that happening with a disgruntled face because _what the hell are they doing?_ He‘s absolutely not salty or annoyed by the fact that they‘re idly chatting and flirting in front of him while Chris still holds Phichit‘s hand like he just can‘t let go and doesn‘t even seem to notice it or at least ignores it and – this feels _wrong._  
  
„Um,“ Yuuri says and two pairs of eyes snap back to him like they completely forgot about him as they lovingly gazed into each others eyes like some – _oh god._  
  
„Yeah I – I really don‘t think this is a good idea,“ he mutters and stares into his tea again.  
  
„Yuuri it‘s okay, you don‘t have to decide now-“  
  
„No,“ Yuuri says firmly and sets his cup down. There‘s some of it spilling over, and he feels the sticky warmth of tea on his fingers.  
  
„No really, I just – I don‘t need this okay? I never did and – and yeah, I had fun, but I also have fun with other people, people who didn‘t have their hand up my ass, and – _why_ does it have to be him? I don‘t need to be ‚healed‘ or ‚completed‘ so I can finally ‚feel‘ things. Love is not a thing I think about and it never was and never will be.“ He finally looks at the shell shocked faces of Chris and Phichit. Their hands lie close on the counter now, not touching.  
  
„There‘s just – so much that speaks against it. They way we met, that he idolizes me so much apparently and guys, come on. There‘s no way someone would fall in love after seeing someone for the first time. There‘s no way he would look at my drunk messy self and think _I want that_. The only thing he wants to be for me is not a boyfriend but a replacement for that fucking zucchini, and that‘s the reality.“  
  
Phichit opens his mouth and closes it, brows furrowed and brain rattling.  
  
„See, I thought about it and it makes sense. It‘s not even my anxiety speaking,“ Yuuri says with grim satisfaction, back straightening but then he has to press his lips tightly together so he doesn‘t yelp from the _fucking_ backrest that digs into his flesh.  
  
„I mean,“ Phichit says, gaze flickering from Yuuri to Chris, „he‘s right?“  
  
Chris sighs. „Yuuri, did you really think about it?“ he asks, and Yuuri thinks about a sweet smile and devastatingly blue eyes. He thinks about the way he blushed so adorably and stuttered as he asked for his autograph. Yuuri has to deal with a lot of fans. They never change.

Sometimes it feels like he‘s nothing more than a plastic doll that springs to life only for them, whenever they want easily consumable, timed entertainment.  
  
„Yeah,“ Yuuri says and looks Phichit dead in the eye, and tries not to think too hard about the relief settling in his bones when he thinks about what a nice ring that word has, like a cup splattering on tiles.  
  
Yuuri smiles deliberately at them. „Please don‘t worry about me. I know that the things yesterday were a mistake, but it wasn‘t that bad that it‘s going to ruin my life. I‘ll be okay and forget about it.“  
  
„If you say so...“ Phichit says carefully, very clearly not trusting the sudden peace in Yuuri‘s mind. He exchanges a long meaningful look with Chris.  
  
„I‘ll just – text him so he doesn‘t come to the address you gave him,“ he says, sounding almost small. Yuuri feels a twinge of pain. Surely Viktor won‘t wait for him? And there‘s no way he‘s wearing the red lipstick he bought for him, right?  
  
„ _Fuck_ ,“ Yuuri mutters horrified and dashes down the hallway and into his room. Or whatever it is he manages to do being completely hungover and having a literal pain in the ass. He frantically searches through his pants until he finds the stylish black leather wallet. He lets out a breath he didn‘t realize he was holding.  
  
Yuuri thinks about opening it but he‘s sure a wonderful, gorgeous Viktor on his drivers license would stare right into his soul, smiling a tiny secretive smile like he knows about all the wonderful things on this world even though smiling is usually not allowed on driving licenses, but he‘s sure that he would bend the rules through a simple wink and pure charisma oozing off him. Or he would stare so intently with a faint amusement in his eyes that his lips wouldn‘t even need to smile, his eyes sending out sparks.  
  
Yuuri is more than curious what version it would be, but he also knows that seeing Viktor‘s face might make his steely determination melt under that stare like butter in the sun, and he would very much like to be a functional adult at least once, thank you.  
  
He leaves his wrinkled clothes on the floor, staggers dangerously from side to side and finds his own wallet. How much does lipstick even cost? He has _no fucking clue_ but he also doesn‘t want to think about it anymore so he takes 100 dollars, closes his eyes tightly and shoves the bill blindly into Viktor‘s wallet which is way harder than anticipated because well, of the whole closed eyes thing. Yuuri clicks his tongue and dares to open an eye.  
  
There‘s a picture of a poodle staring back at him with kind, dark eyes, and Yuuri‘s heart squeezes because _dog! A poodle! He loves his dog so much he keeps a picture of him!_  
  
He quickly closes his eyes and walks down the corridor to give Chris the wallet, hoping he‘ll be fine with playing delivery boy. Yuuri briefly considers writing an apology letter, but then again he was never good with words so it could end up as a misunderstanding that would break Viktor‘s heart or make him think Yuuri is still interested, and he just couldn‘t bear that.  
  
Yuuri really had fun yesterday. Why should he ruin this nice memory (except from this morning) with seeing the real Viktor who definitely can‘t be so perfect like the blurry man from yesterday? It‘s way better to keep a good memory than to destroy one with dragging things that should stay in the past in the bright light of the present and see them fade like old photographs because they clearly don‘t belong here.  
  
So Yuuri walks into the kitchen just to find it empty. He furrows his brows, but as he goes to Phichit‘s door he doesn‘t even need to knock to recognize the rhythmic thump of a headrest against a wall. He sighs deeply and runs a hand through his hair, putting the wallet on the kitchen counter.  
  
The door bell rings, startling Yuuri, a thing Phichit installed one time that plays a lot of different tunes whenever pressed. This time, it‘s Death Of A Bachelor. He walks down the hallway, but the person on the other side seemingly wants to try out each melody because All I Want For Christmas, Gucci Gang and Bohemian Rhapsody start to play in succession.  
  
He practically rips open the front door and glares when a tune plays he never recognized before, something that always sat on the tip of his tongue but now he knows it by heart.  
  
When he opens the door, the chorus of Like A Virgin starts to play.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading ❤❤❤ (Well I hope there are still people who want to read this)
> 
> Edit: Today, exactly 2 days after 4/20, this fic has reached 420 kudos. I am blessed. Snoop Dog will visit my house,


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